When Both Our Cars Collide (A Few Heartbeats)

There are things that hide in the night, that creep and crawl and flash and blink and run, run, run, suddenly, fast, and all at once.
There are sounds that hide in the night, that sing and fly and arc out of beating chests and escape from quickened breaths.
There are shocked gasps and frightened screams that hide in the night, that drift slowly from ear to ear amongst the crunching of glass and cries of shattering bones.
I’m too young to die.
Oh god, I’m too young. I’ve got my whole life in front of me. I can’t go like this. I haven’t said goodbye to my mom. What’s going on? This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.
Thoughts were flashing past in Gerard’s mind at lightning speed, but everything in his sight was moving slow and sluggish, black swimming at the edge of his vision and snaking tendrils of darkness into the colours bleeding around him.
The twisted forms of the two cars creaked dangerously as the sour tang of fear and gas rose around him. In front of Gerard, he could just see a shuddering form, ripped jeans, tousled hair.
“H-hello?” he choked out. “Can you hear me? Are you near me?”
“Hey.” The reply was soft, torn from a throat that was coarse and raw from screaming.
The two steel frames had wrapped around each other, two lovers in an unwilling embrace, caught at just the wrong moment in time. Gerard clawed at the mangled seatbelt that had captured him against the seat, pinning him against the rough cloth.
“I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
Gerard wondered briefly about the other man’s life. Did he have a girlfriend? Maybe kids? A mother, who was wringing her hands and pacing in front of the clock, waiting for a son who would never come home, stranded amongst the wreckages of two cars on a long-forgotten stretch of road? A younger brother, still in school, skilled fingers sliding over the neck of his bass as he hoped one day to make it big in the music industry with his brother? A father, working two shifts a day to help keep his son in college, coming home tired and drained, with an aching back and creaking knees, eyes growing dim from age?
The silence that hung between them after Gerard’s apology could have lasted aeons, a fragile piece of spider silk, humming with the slightest movement, threatening to break any second.
“Fuck,” the other man swore suddenly, swiping angrily at his eyes, shoving a fringe matted with blood away. “I’m too young to die. That’s what’s gonna happen, right? I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die, alone.”
As he pushed his fringe away, Gerard saw just how young the guy was. Probably not much older than Mikey.
Wow. He had really fucked up this time.
“It’s…it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, I promise,” Gerard whispered as the night closed in upon them on all sides, pretending that it was his brother that he was comforting. Oh fuck, his brother. What were they going to tell Mikey? How would they explain that the brother that he had idolised and looked up to so much had been riding high, speeding along a stretch of road before he had hit another car, taking an innocent life with him?
“No, it’s not, it’s not okay! It’s not okay, it’s not fair!”
The shriek broke Gerard’s concentration, the desperate cry struggling against the walls that hemmed it in. And he saw wild eyes, tears running tracks down a blood smudged face, creating drops of dirty red that clung to a trembling jawline. And so he slumped back in his seat as the yells grew fainter and fainter, finishing with a wracked sob of, “It’s not o-fucking-kay.”
And the reality of what he had done hit him, and Gerard reeled, his stomach dropping even more than at the moment of impact, when he had blacked out while the car spun and screamed and screeched and smashed.
It wasn’t meant to be this way.
I didn’t mean to do it.
Don’t let it be this way.
God, I can’t be the only who has ever fucked up like this. If you’re up there, help me, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll go straight edge; I won’t ever touch another pill or drink again in my life. Please. It doesn’t matter if you don’t save me, save the other guy. It’s not his fault. It’s mine. It’s mine, it’s mine, I fucked up, I fucked up, don’t let it be this way, please, please, PLEASE.
Please.
Please?
Just do something. I don’t care. Anything. Please.
But there was no answer, no light for him to live in, just the rippling of wind and advancing darkness and silence, silence, silence. And Gerard felt the cold, crushing hand of despair, because he knew there was no way out of this, and it snuck its touch into his chest, and it hurt so much, because he knew that he would never see his mom, or his dad, or Mikey, the light of day again.
And then he saw the slow dance that had begun in the back, mesmerising, intensely beautiful, and he thought it was the sun, but it wasn’t, it was deadly, deadly, deadly.
And then he knew that no, it wasn’t going to be okay, that he was going to die, afraid, and without company, and alone, alone, alone.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
So Gerard Arthur Way turned his head to meet the eyes of the other boy, closed his and waited for the few heartbeats that spelled disaster for the two.
And just before the rushing flames hit and spiralled and begun their deathly ballet, Gerard felt a set of fingers curl around his and hold on tight, nails cutting into his palm, grasping on as if this stranger’s touch would somehow set him free.
And so they lived within the flickering light; soundless as the day they were born, without knowing the name of the other, alone together in death.
There are things that hide in the night, that creep and crawl and flash and blink and stop, stop, stop, suddenly, fast, and all at once.
There are sounds that hide in the night, that sing and fly and arc out of hollow chests and escape from lingering breaths.
There are pained gasps and desperate screams that hide in the night, that drift slowly from ear to ear amongst the shattering of glass and cries of burning bones and silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Notes

Hey guys! This is Mikey_The_Unicorn, but for some reason I can't get onto my account *scowl* so here I am, posting under the Killjoy name Vanilla Coke.
I had the idea for this fic when I was on holidays in New Zealand, but I only managed to flesh it out and write it now at 12 am, so I'm sorry if there were any mistakes or if it was bad.
The title is taken from Helena [by MCR] and Kissing in Cars [by Pierce the Veil]. I hope you enjoyed it!
Signing out,
Coke/Mikey
P.S Find me on tumblr as street-walking-cheetah :)